13:35
SNA Regional HQ, Tehran
Arash moved through the tenth-floor hall with the quick, nervous steps of a man who'd had too little sleep and too many bad calls. Alpha Team's beacon had gone dead after midnight — Sohel, Mitali, and Leon had gone off-grid and not checked in. His thumb hovered over the keys as he draughted an urgent message to New Eden and Major General Titan: request permission to deploy a search team to Nowshahr immediately.
He hit send before he could reconsider. The line clicked, and the waiting began.
13:40
Liora's Compound — Red Room
Sohel's voice was taut with rage. "You're lucky my hands are tied, Liora."
Liora's lips tilted in a smile that never reached her eyes. "You wouldn't be able to do anything even if they were free," she said, nodding toward the two FNA guards posted by the door. "Look. Your friend. See how much they love it?" Her gesture sent Sohel's gaze to the walkway.
Below, the factory thrummed. A guard forced Mitali down the walkway; she tried to cover herself, but his rifle butt pushed her hands aside. The workers below shouted and whooped into the night — a baying, dehumanising sound that made Sohel clench his jaw so hard it ached.
"Don't hate me for it, Sam," Liora said benignly. "It's punishment for coming after me. If you don't like it, back to your cell."
She signalled to a guard and spoke a terse instruction in German. "I'll return her to you later," she told Sohel. "Not tonight. Let them build up a hunger."
14:20
Alone in the cell, Sohel worked through contingencies. Keys, timing, patrol patterns — each looped in his mind and frayed at the edges. Overpowering a guard would mean risking Mitali; slipping a rope knot might buy seconds but not freedom. He needed to get his hands free, to find the keys, to know where the guards slept. Each possibility opened others, and each was full of danger.
22:51
Hours passed in a grey haze. When the gate finally clanged, Sohel's body moved before his brain had fully cleared. They marched him to Liora's office at gunpoint. Fatigue blurred his edges; Lee stood there like a wall beside her.
"It's warmup, Sam," Liora said, almost casually. "A trial before the real work. Dangerous, possibly fatal. But… I'm curious. The undead have limits, yes? Lee is your boss now — he'll accompany you."
Sohel spat his hatred. "When the time comes, Liora… I'll kill you myself."
Liora's eyes lit up for a second; she then said in her usual calm voice, "I think you need to know a little bit about Lee, Sam. Before coming to me, he was in the Vietnam Army. He was cruel and hotheaded. He got in an argument with his commander for pulling out a father's tongue. At a point during the argument, he killed his commander. First, he punched him to the ground. Then he sat on top of him and pulled his tongue out with pliers. And then finally, he took out the commander's pistol from his holster and shot him in the inside of his mouth."
Three guards entered the room with a prisoner. Although his clothes were torn, Sohel could easily recognise the black and red SNA battle uniform. The guards made the prisoner kneel in front of Lee. The man's eyes were lit with fury.
Liora continued, "Lee hates religion. Once, when he was still in the army, while moving through a village with his squad, he saw a Christian father teaching kids about Christianity. Lee pulled the father's tongue out with pliers so he could never speak about religion again and turned the kids deaf so that they could never hear about religion again. He was getting court-martialled because of this incident. But then he ended up killing his commander and ran away. That's how Lee punishes people. Just one of many."
Liora looked at Lee and nodded. Lee took out a pair of chopsticks while two guards pulled the hands of the prisoner behind him. Lee inserted the small points of the chopsticks in the prisoner's ear. Liora said, "This is how Lee deafens people."
Lee slapped on the other side of the chopsticks with all his might. The chopsticks got inside the prisoner's skull as much as they could. Blood came out of his ears like a waterfall and came out from his eyes and nose too. He leaned forward with a bloodcurdling scream. As the guards let go of his hands, he fell on his face, unconscious.
Liora continued, "He won't be able to hear for a long time now, until his ears heal, if they heal. Those kids from the village became deaf permanently."
Two guards dragged the unconscious prisoner away while the other two remained. "You may wonder why I show you this," Liora said, drawing Sohel's eyes back to her. "A hint of what might happen to your other friend if you try to run."
Sohel didn't need to ask which friend. The realisation landed like a stone.
He sat on the edge of the chair and felt the world narrow. Leon — likely captured. Mitali — paraded and threatened. The choice Liora offered was brutal and surgical: comply and live under her thumb, or refuse and absorb the consequences she demonstrated.
Liora's voice softened into a businesslike cadence. "We're low on raw materials. The war has choked our imports. Old routes are compromised. A shipment sits in Jabol — difficult, dangerous, but recoverable. You, Sam, are useful because you survive what others do not. You and Lee will go together. Retrieve the crate, and the terms are favourable. Fail, and you will watch the next demonstration."
It was an ultimatum dressed as an offer. Sohel swallowed and felt the edges of a plan forming in the dark: play along; reopen channels; find a way to turn her leverage against her.
When they shoved him back into the cell that night, the concrete smelt of dust and old oil. Sohel lay on the floor and let the fury settle into a hard, disciplined focus. He would go to Jabol. He would act as the obedient instrument. He would map every guard rotation, memorise every route, and wait for the precise moment to strike.
Outside, the factory's machinery hummed, anonymous and indifferent. Inside, a human calculus had been laid bare: survive, gather, and then make the only choice left that could end what Liora had set in motion.